John McCain and Davy Jones, Internet Crossed Lovers
by Raven Serenity
Summary: After a fateful meeting in an internet chat room, John McCain and Davy Jones embark on a journey to save the western world. Together they learn the meaning of love, of friendship, and find surprises in the American political machine.


"She is so grodie," internet user imabeliever1967 posted. "I just hate that Sarah Palin."

"Cheyah, I know. She's like totally a double agent for Russia. She could see all their orders from her house." replied internet user capuchinjockey45 replied. "I just know this, because 1960's boy bands were told all the secrets by the Beatles."

John McCain's palms shook. Who was this man on the other side? Could it be his fav? John had always been a fan of the Monkees. He knew Davy had loved horse racing. He looked at the clock. It was 8 am."Oh no. It is 8am!" he said. "I'm late for work" he gasped. John stood up, his velvet boxers clinging all too tight to his well sculpted thighs, the bold outline of his groin popping out of the fabric. He threw on the nearest pair of pants and headed to work. When he was heading to work, he got to work in 5 minutes— it was 8:05.

"your late! its 8:05!" said the chief of his campaign. "I could have you replaced right this second with Sarah. Her can do you betcha attitude will her to the white house, as your VP, or P."

John McCain glanced down. If it had been Davy Jones, it was true. Sarah was for sure a double agent. But he wasn't sure. He had to be careful, tactful, not let his campaign know he knew. It was September 2008. The country was too busy singing to put anyone (including shitty loans) down. He knew he needed proof. And that meant one thing, meeting his idol, Davy Jones.

He sat down in his office. For once, the news cameras, Sarah, and those handsome pages, were not in. He logged back into his fav forum, based on politics, and 1960's culture. He looked at the reply from capuchinjockey45 and contemplated replying. "What band were you in. I have a guess from your screen name."

"Your guess is correct. I want the world to know its me." John knew it was the hello from the other side he needed. "When can we meet? you'd never lie."

"meet me in your office at 3am. night time. In the darkness. Wear black."

So John did. he waited his desk patiently until the clock 3am, like clock work, he heard a door open and a dark shadowy figure slip into that room.

"Davy… is that you?" john said nervously, scared that he was finally meeting his hero, and possible lover.

"It's me john. I told you to wear black. You didn't. How can I trust you now." Davy said angrily, but it was a scared angry. An anger you would only show to someone you truly love.

"I-i-ii… I forgot. I'm sorry." John said, embarrassed, his face turning as red as a very red fruit, like a tomato.

"I'd rather you be naked than not wearing black" Davy said, suddenly flirtatious.

"Not now Davy, we have to stop Sarah, if she truly is bad."

"Oh she is, I'll prove it to you!" Davy Jones whipped out a tube. He opened the tube. He slid out a poster, that was rolled into a tube. He unrolled the tubed poster to reveal a picture of Sarah and Vladimir Putin in a lover's embrace. Sarah had in her had, slung over his enormous russian bear shoulders, a file marked "defense plans of the continental united states of america: home of the free, and the brave, and waffle house."

John cried into the arms of Davy. "Oh Davy, I just didn't want to believe it. My managers just wanted me to have a good shot at the presidency. This is fate, bringing us together."

"Oh John, your tact and skill as a politician made me take note of you from the very beginning. This was fate expedited. But how will we stop her?"

"Together". John pulled out his three purple heart pins, which three inch long needles at the end of them doubled as large tactical knives. Concealable knives. John had to make this personal. He had to get close. Real close.

But not as close as too hearts beating as one— like John and Davy, whose spirits drifted out their bodies and were entwined in the ether above their heads, twirling in the infinite—infinitely together, and yet so painfully apart. These men cold never be together— their beautiful country would never allow it. If only there was a President who would support the supreme court's stance on gay marriage, then these two men would no longer be star crossed lovers. John looked at Davy with a heavy broken heart.

"Let's get this communist curse."

Sarah sat in her lodge in Alaska, weeping. In that moment, she had been weak for her beautiful bear. He had been so kind, sending beautiful morse code messages across the bearing sea. At first she did not know it was him, the leader of Russia, former KGB agent, her strong Vladdy. She fell in love.

But when he asked for the plans for protection of the continental united states, she knew it wasn't the same. But her love consumed her. And she broke, giving him the plans. Her beloved Todd, pregnant daughter, and most importantly, the serene beauty of Alaska, and the oil drillers, would still be safe. It was snowing, but she didn't notice. All she felt was apprehension. She knew the secret would have already spread through the 60's boy band grape vine. And she knew John McCain loved Davy Jones. It was only a matter of time before she was confronted.

There was a rapping rap at the door. "Sarah, it's me." John's voice sounded saccharine to her. She opened the door. There stood Davy Jones and John McCain. "You know," a gentle tear rolled down her gentle cheek.

"Yes, how could you Sarah? How could you? How could you do this to a country where anyone can have their own reality television show?" Cried John.

"It was love, John. You don't know what its like to love someone when everyone else tells you its wrong."

"Actually… I do" John said wistfully, looking at Davy as he pulled out his purple heart. "I'm so sorry. But this is what this country needs right now". John used his quick Vietnam war reflexes and lunged across the room, he was the fastest in his troop. The best. He plunged a purple heart into Sarah's real heart. But it kept beating.

"FOOLS! The RNC paid for 150,000 dollars of clothes. They weren't going to let me die that easily!" Sarah pulled the pin from her heart. "But seriously, I can help you stop my dear Vlady with my unadulterated sexuality."

"Okay, that will work on that beautiful specimen of masculinity." Said Davy. "He's not the perfect specimen," his eyes darting to John, "but he is beautiful."

"Hey Vlady Baby," the voice of Vlad's lover floated towards him. "Hey my beauty queen, wanna play my flute?" answered Putin. "I'm not feeling especially musical today, sorry Vlady." replied Sarah. She draped herself across his lap. "Where'd you put my gift?" coaxed her lover.

"It is somewhere safe, very safe." replied Vlad, kissing her deeply. "I keep all the things I love safe."

"So do I," Sarah remarked, her eyes gleaming. "GET HIM BOYS!" With that, Davy and John jumped from the ceiling, deploying smoke bombs to mask their identities. Then, they and Putin began to shoot blindly. As quickly as it had begun, it was over, and the four lay on the floor. No one had hit their intended target. Vlad had shot Sarah. Sarah had shot Vlad. John had shot Davy. Davy had shot John. All but Vlad was dead, but he was sputtering, near the end.

"MY DEAREST, MY DARLING!" Shrieked a new voice. It was a deep american voice. Obama ran to his lover. "No my dearest. My darling."

"I always protect the things I love," sputtered Vlad. Obama cried into the chest of his one true love. "I will make it so we could have married in my country when I am president. Goodnight sweet prince, and a flight of angels sing you to your rest." Obama closed Vlad's eyes. He stood, and put on his sunglasses, "the election has been won."


End file.
